


Adventures in Magnetism

by carcrashhumor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cochlear Implants, Deaf AU, Deaf Scott, Deaf Stiles, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Scott, Pre-Slash, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carcrashhumor/pseuds/carcrashhumor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been Stiles's idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures in Magnetism

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! This is my first Teen Wolf fic and the first fic I've written in literal years, and this hasn't been beta'd, so forgive me if this is clunky and feel free to point out mistakes.

It had been Stiles’s idea. Though to be fair, it had been Scott that had taken the external component of his cochlear implant off at a moment of annoyance and stuck it to Stiles’s refrigerator, the magnet securing itself firmly onto the door. Stiles hit his arm and pointed excitedly at it when Scott turned to look at him, smile nearly splitting his face in half. 

“That’s a magnet?” His friend’s chubby fingers more flailing the words into existence than signing them in his excitement.

Scott smiled and nodded, they’d already had the ‘why do you have a hearing aid if you’re full deaf?’ talk a few months back, and while, at 8 years old, Scott didn't have the facilities to efficiently explain the technicalities of cochlear implants, and Stiles hadn’t been able to pay attention long enough to sit through both of their mother’s explanations of what exactly went into having a cochlear implant, it had been enough information to tide him over. This, however, was new, and had captivated his friend’s attention in a way few things did.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was a magnet?!”

He ducked his head, feeling a brief stab of guilt at having left out something Stiles viewed as this crucial, and shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”

Stiles’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull, “Scott, we could have been playing with it this whole time!”

\--

It started off innocently enough. The two of them wandering around the kitchen and sticking the CI on virtually every surface in the room, figuring out what it would stick on and what it wouldn’t. The toaster, the legs of the chairs, the sink… it was when they’d migrated into the rest of the house that things started to get a little hairy. At first, they’d been fine just trying to pick up the assortment of matchbox cars they’d been driving around the living room, but the possibilities with their toys had been exhausted fairly quickly and left the two bored and mulling over the possibilities for interesting, more exciting options. 

Especially once they’d realized what it had done to the TV screen. 

The cartoons they’d been watching before deciding it was snack time were still on, and Stiles marched up to it with the uncoordinated swagger Scott had become so accustomed to since he’d befriended the boy and held the piece a few inches from the screen. Now, the magnet was strong enough that from where it was held, the color began to warp slightly, causing Scott to rush forward, mouth dropping in awe at the sight. He nudged Stiles, motioning for him to put it closer to the screen.

There, in the center, a nebula of color swirled around where the magnet was now pressed firmly to the screen, both boys signing animatedly, faces wide open with wonder and laughing as the screen became less of a clear picture and more of a swirling mess of colors, completely distorted under the power of the magnet.

It was the harsh vibration of someone stomping on the floor to get their attention that had the two boys jumping and turning to face John Stilinski, who stood in the doorway, holding his hands out, an expression of pure, terrifying outrage marring his features.

“What are you doing?!”

Stiles, who by now was much more familiar with frustration painting his father’s face, was the first to say something, “We were just playing. Look! Scott’s CI is a magnet so we were putting it-“

“I can see that, Stiles, why were you putting it on the TV?” Scott’s stomach curled with nerves, the thought of getting into trouble over this, of the blame falling on him making it ache, so he remained silent, knowing that if anyone could talk John out of never letting Scott come over to play again, it would be Stiles.

“Because it looked cool. I’ll fix it, see?” Stiles turned and removed the magnet from the screen, smile falling from his face when the issue didn’t clear up at all. He turned, so fast that he almost lost balance and gripped onto Scott’s shoulder for support, eyes wide, “I didn’t know it would break!”

“The two of you just sit down.” His movements were harsh enough that it communicated exactly what he wasn’t saying. They were in trouble. Big trouble.

The few steps it took for them to cross the living room and sit on the couch felt like Scott was walking to the electric chair. That was when the tears started. It was over. Mr. Stilinski was never going to let him over again, he just knew it. Any second, the two boys would watch from their places on the couch as Stiles’s father marched over to the phone and pick it up, calling his mom over to take him home and never bring him back over. 

Scott brushed at his eyes and waved to get John’s attention, “It’s my fault, I’m sorry, please don’t make me go home!”

Stiles reached over and batted Scott’s hand down, “It was my idea! All he did was put it on the refrigerator. I put it on the TV.”

The expression on the older man’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he raised a hand to rub at his forehead, some of the tension leaving his body as he crossed the room and crouched in front of the two of them. 

“You know what you did was wrong, don’t you?” Both boys nodded solemnly, “And you understand that TVs are expensive?” Again, they nodded. John’s shoulders dropped again as he let out a breath, “Then I want you, Scott, to stand in that corner, facing the wall, and Stiles, I want you to stand in that corner. Eight minutes.” He glanced down at his watch, “Starting now.”

Stiles puffed out, bristling, “Eight minutes?!”

John nodded, “One minute for every year you two are old. I’ll bring the TV from mine and your mom’s room, but listen up, no more putting Scott’s CI on everything unless you ask me first, understand?”

Stiles, still bitter about being put in time out, just got up and marched over to the corner his father had pointed in. Scott gave himself a moment to pause and be thankful that Stiles hadn’t pulled his shirt over his eyes the way he’d done when Scott’s dad had been yelled at them for playing too loudly while he was trying to work. Nodding at John, Scott brushed at his eyes one more time and went to his own designated corner while Mr. Stilinski had gone to get the other TV.

Once the vibrations from his footsteps had told them they were in the clear, Scott felt a pillow hit him in the back. When he turned to look over at his friend, he saw Stiles standing exactly as his father had been in the doorway only moments before, face an almost perfect copy of the one that had been staring them down, and dropped his head to rub at his forehead.

Scott laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at: hearteyesformaliasthighs.tumblr.com, come chat/talk headcanons/send prompts, whatever you want :)


End file.
